


Cornered

by Thiebes



Category: Black Sails
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Wet Dream, accidental somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:15:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26728048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thiebes/pseuds/Thiebes
Summary: It was only a dream.
Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver
Comments: 7
Kudos: 47





	Cornered

\--

Silver moaned as a soft wave of pleasure rolled through his body. He rocked into the delicate press of freckled fingers, on his waist, on his neck, over his groin. He was hazy. It was warm, but not oppressively so. His brain felt foggy, his world rolled gently like the tug of water on the hull of the ship, in tune with the soft breath on his neck that sent shivers down his spine. He rolled with it, rocking his body up onto the sensations, feeling the rising pull of warmth in his belly, in his heart, in the blush on his face. He felt that pull rise like the crest of a wave, pushing him upward and then retreating softly at the last minute. As each wave tugged and fell, he was brought closer to the brink, only for it to shrink away at the last second. His legs felt tight, he couldn't lift his arms. He could only lean into the feeling as it rolled through him, over him, and melted away right before he felt himself reach that sweet, sweet release. He felt like it went on and on forever. Wave after wave, touch after touch. He whined, low and quiet, desperate to finish, but relishing the soft heat that brushed over him again and again.

The heat was oppressive now. Hot breath on his neck, right behind that soft spot on his ear, making him twitch and shiver. A soft but firm palm gripped his throat. His hands itched to touch himself, but they were heavy, and wouldn't respond to his commands. He felt the air like a hot cloud around him as his orgasm grew deafeningly, only to slip just out of reach....

Silver's eyes popped open as he woke. He was staring at the wood of the hull inches from his face. He could hear the slap of the water hitting the side of the warship on the other side, rocking the floor and him with it. His head was still warm, his body tingling. His cock was hard and leaking in his trousers. It was only a dream. He sighed softly.

And then he shivered.

A warm breath caressed his neck. The soft pressure of a hand still rested on the side of his throat. Flint.

The former captain lay on the floor behind him, and they had rolled in their sleep. Silver was practically pinned to the wall by Flint's body, his arm flopped over his eyes just close enough that his hand rested neatly on the most sensitive part of Silver's neck. Second-most sensitive, actually. The spot just behind Silver's ear was being caressed by the warmth of Flint's breath. He shivered, a reflection of his dream and the taste of it on his tongue setting the delicate hairs of his body on end.

Behind them he could hear a soft cacophony of snores. The crew slept in their newly acquired Spanish warship hammocks, in their new Spanish warship, courtesy of Flint and himself. They had earned back their lives, but the Walrus men hadn't allowed them to sleep among them, since they were no longer part of the crew, the bastards. And now silver was pinned to the wall, flush against Flint's warm body, hard as a rock.

He sighed deeply. He had been in worse sleeping conditions.

There was a good reason that ships such as these were fitted with hammocks instead of beds. Gravity and the sea played a never ending tug of war with any ship that sailed across her. From afar, the ships looked as if they cut through the water with ease, propelled forward straight and balanced with the wind. Anyone on board knew better. It was a dance seafaring men had to learn, swaying with the ship to stay upright. And at night, when their bodies were limp and needed rest, the hammocks swayed with the ship, preventing them from rolling across the floor like so many bottles of ale. Or former cooks and captains.

Silver had a choice. He could lay still as he was, coax himself off the precipice and try to sleep, guaranteeing himself discomfort and a roaring headache in the morning, or he could address his predicament head on, and hope to a god he didnt believe in that it wouldnt rouse the men--least of all Flint.

The roll of the ship pulled at the two of them, pressing them together and then releasing softly. He was so warm. The soft breath on his neck was almost agonizing in the way it sent pleasure rushing through him. He couldn't ever remember Flint feeling so soft, so languid. He'd been pressed against Flint before. That day, even. Those times, Flint had been hard muscle and rough touch, a force of pressure and a blade at his throat. Now, however, he was relaxed, warm, the skin of his palm barely touching Silver. It gave Silver a rush, and he was struck by the thought that he may never get this opportunity again.

He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of him, sweat and flesh and hair and fabric, all permeated with a wash of dried salt and a hint of blood. He wanted to remember this. He felt the small bristles of hair on Flint's arms brush him, and imagined the way they looked when the sun hit just right, illuminating them with a dazzling copper that left him breathless. He felt the weight of Flint's hips and thighs as they pressed against the back of his own, pressing him into the side of the ship. He knew the strength of those thighs in action, and imagined that too. How good it would feel to have them pressed between his legs. It sent a shock through him that made him shudder slightly.

He pressed his free hand on his groin. He was hard and tight, pressing against the fabric of his trousers. There was a small damp spot near where tip of his cock pulled against the linen. He fumbled with the buttons, being careful not to shift his elbow too roughly and dislodge his position. He pulled himself out and stroked softly, biting his lower lip. He had enough practice not making noise that he didnt even need to think about it. He knew how to moan without ever making a sound, and he did so now, tilting his head back into Flint as he stroked his fingers over the head of his cock. The feeling of rocking from his dream returned, heady and warm. His legs were still pinned against the side of the hull, and it thrilled him. He loved the feeling of being held down, the danger of it. He imagined flint holding him against the rocks down at the Wrecks, fucking him senseless. He matched his rhythm to the rocking of the warship, pressing back into flint as he pumped his hand up and down, twisting under the head of his cock and back down. He slid his palm over the top, spreading the pooling precome onto his hand and back down the shaft. He wanted to touch himself, lift his shirt up and play with his own nipples, but didn't have room to move his other arm. He pressed into the hand on his neck and imagined Flint's hands on him instead.

Flint shifted slightly and he froze.

He thought for a moment that Flint had woken. His heart rammed in his chest and he could hear the blood rushing in his ears and Flint's fingers tightened slightly around his neck. He didnt dare move.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit. This was a bad idea.

But then, Flint mumbled something incoherent and leaned in, pressing himself fully against Silver. His hand moved down across Silver's stomach, sliding under his shirt and pressing the two of them together. It was hard to ignore the pointed swell of Flint's bulge as it pressed into Silver's ass. He swallowed a gasp of surprise.

Flints mouth was nearly pressing against Silver's neck now. He could feel a prickle of Flint's beard brushing against his skin. The space between Silver's shoulders and Flint's chest had disappeared, and he could feel the rumble of Flint's breathing, the rise and fall of his chest against his back. It sent goosebumps up his arms.

There was no way that Flint could be awake. If he was, Silver would most certainly be dead.

Tentatively, he shifted his hips, rutting lightly against Flint. Flint groaned and tilted his hips into the motion, curling tighter around silver. Silver bit his lip. He knew he was playing with fire, teasing flint like this in his sleep. But the danger and closeness woke something in him, something akin to madness. Risk was part of the game he played well. He had never done anything close to this before. His entire body was pulsing with nerves and desire, so much so that every point of contact with Flint was shooting waves of pleasure through him. He gripped his cock and swallowed a groan, resuming his previous rhythm. The movement only resulted in Flint pressing closer around Silver's body. Flints hand was at his neck again. This time from the front fingers pressing into his flesh just enough to make him light-headed. His forearm pressed against Silver's chest, pinning them together as Silver thrusted up into his hand. A squeeze from flint sent Silver careening over the edge. Silver bit down a cry as he came, shuddering deeply against Flint's hand on his throat.

.

The next morning, Flint said nothing about the night before, but walked the deck with clenched teeth, mumbling something about a headache under his breath.


End file.
